Need For Speed
by DelicateSoul
Summary: AU: Rose, the current Road Killer, has won every street race and is aiming to go to the top. When ex-Road Killer, Dimitri Belikov, shows up, rules will be broken, limits will be pushed, and temptations will be stirred.
1. Asking For Trouble

_**Once you've raced, you never forget it.**_

_**You never get over it.**_

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><p><em>Asking For Trouble<em>

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><p>With a screeching sound, my car came to a perfect stop by my group just as a group of bystanders cheered as they made their way towards us. I rested my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes momentarily with a heavy sigh before putting my aviator shades on and stepping out of the driver's side.<p>

"The _Road Killer_ has dominated again! Can no one stop her feisty desire for exhilaration and speed!" the judge—some hired college student—exclaimed enthusiastically from the stands with a beer in hand. Amazing how some people can still function with alcohol in their systems.

"That was such a killer move!"

"The little drift you integrated into that turn was awesome! You have to show me sometimes!"

"You're so unstoppable! You're a girl, but you've whooped everyone's asses since day one!"

I just waved my hand in response and walked over to Lissa, who had the stopwatch. "Better than last week? Enough to make it to Nationals?" I pressed with an anxious feeling in my gut as I took off my blood red helmet. "Come on, Liss! Don't just stare at me! Read the time!"

She lost against herself and broke out into a grin. "You just knocked off thirty seconds from your best time so far!" she cheered, jumping up and down while pulling me into a hug. She stopped and held me at arms' length away. "Rose, at this rate, you can make Nationals without breaking a sweat!"

I couldn't help the smile that broke out on my face. "Liss, that's the best news I've heard all day," I sighed in relief and ran a hand through my hair.

"Aw, is Rosie going to go all sentimental on us? Can she do that in front of her fans?" Christian teased with a smirk as he draped an arm around Lissa's shoulders comfortingly. He just grinned when I glared at him. "Calm yourself."

"How about I bash your nuts in front of my fans?" I asked in the same mocking tone with an innocent smile. "I bet they'll think you're the one who's sentimental."

My best friend just rolled her eyes. "Okay, time out! No more fighting, just for five minutes!" she said with a laugh.

"With these two, that's impossible. You, of all people, should know that by now," Sydney said as she lightly punched my arm. "Congrats out there, though. You ran his ass to the ground!"

I winked at her. "You know how I roll," I said, making her smirk.

There was a faint smell of vodka in the air; faint, but very familiar. "Now, ladies. Care to let me in on some girl talk?" Adrian slurred, wrapping his arms around Sydney from behind with a sneaky grin, "I'm all ears."

"And alcohol," Sydney groaned and turned away as he tried to kiss her.

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. "All right guys! I'm feeling awesome tonight, so who's down for some late-night pizza and root beer!" I cheered.

"Now you're talking," Christian said with a satisfied grin. "We'll go ahead and reserve our usual spot. See you guys in twenty, and see Rose in probably ten." With that, he led Lissa away from the chattering crowd and towards his Mercedes hidden behind our 'workshop.'

Turning to Sydney, I already saw Adrian's keys in her hand. "Smart. I'm going to take one last look at my tires before I catch up with you guys, so don't touch a slice until I get there," I warned half-jokingly. She and Lissa both knew that I could get brutal over a simple issue of food.

When the pair left, I sighed and looked at each tire carefully, making sure that I could still go a couple of hundreds of miles on them; drifting does come in handy at the price of killing nearly half of the tire's life. "Damn," I grumbled, putting my hands on my hips. "I have to buy new ones next month probably."

"With the way you're driving? I'd recommend you'd have to switch every two weeks," a new, low voice laced with a unique accent said from behind me.

I spun around and looked up at the stranger's face, and my first impression was that he wasn't good looking. He was _hot_.

Lifting my shades, I simply stared at him. "And who am I taking this random advice from?"

He flashed a half-grin. "Belikov," he said. "Dimitri Belikov."

* * *

><p>"Stop glaring at me!" Ben said as he pulled up to the makeshift parking lot in a deserted storage area. "Trust me, you'll have a great time. And I've got news about the current <em>Road Killer<em>; they say she's a beast when she's behind the wheel."

I got out of the car and inhaled the familiar scent of exhaust pipes. "This is a mistake," I mumbled, leaning against the passenger door. Suddenly, a black Nissan GT-R whooshed right past us before I could even blink, followed by a custom-built Honda Accord. I didn't have to be an idiot to know who would win.

Draping an arm around my neck, Ben enthusiastically pulled me to the crowd gathering around the GT-R. "Come on! Don't be such a wimp!" he laughed as he released me to blend in with the crowd.

I decided to just stay a bit away from the crowd and observed the driver before she got out of the car. When she took off her helmet, it took all the willpower I had to not gawk at her. Ben had said she was a beast behind the wheel. I thought he forgot to mention that she was also a beast out of the car. A sexy beast on two legs.

"God, every time I see her, she just gets more and more pretty," a guy who was a few feet away from me said dreamily.

_Pretty_ didn't accurately describe her.

When the crowd started to slowly disintegrate, she was alone and checking each of her tires. My guess was that she was checking to see how long it would be before she had to change all four of them. I figured it was my chance to approach her.

"Damn," she grumbled to herself, putting her hands on her perfect curves. "I have to buy new ones next month probably."

I couldn't help myself. "With the way you're driving? I'd recommend you'd have to switch every two weeks."

She turned around when I spoke, and I saw her eyebrows rise slightly. Lifting her sunglasses, I was met with dark chocolate eyes: so rich and beautiful.

"And who am I taking this advice from?"

My lip twitched upward slightly. "Belikov," I answered. "Dimitri Belikov."

She just stared at me like I was a moron.

Suddenly, Ben came up behind me and slapped me on the back with a goofy grin. "Come on, you don't know Dimitri Belikov?" he asked her as if they were close friends. "He was the previous _Road Killer_ up until his car—"

I elbowed his ribs to shut him up.

Her demeanor changed slightly and she grinned mischievously at me. "Well, Belikov. If your skills aren't too rusty yet, we should race sometimes," she said and winked as she got in her car before speeding off.

I released the breath that I didn't know I had been holding.

Ben snickered. "Man, she's clouded your mind, hasn't she?" he teased and put his hands in his pockets. "Good luck asking her out, though. Word has it that she rejects everyone."

I chuckled. "I never said I wanted to ask her out. I was just admiring the view," I said, walking towards his car.

"Sure you were," my friend grinned slyly. "Dude, you're just asking for trouble. Admit it; you haven't changed a bit from our racing days."

Grimacing, I replied, "I have. And that's why I stopped racing six years ago."

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**-Delicate**


	2. Fighting Off Memories

_**The virtue lies in the struggle…  
>Not the prize.<strong>_

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><p><em>Fighting Off Memories<em>

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><p>"Dammit, Liss. I told you to stop at your second shot," I grumbled as I dragged my drunken best friend to her bed in our shared dorm room. It was a pretty damn big miracle that we had managed to sneak past the dorm matron with the way that Lissa couldn't stop giggling; I nearly had to gag her mouth with my sock to keep quiet.<p>

Her giggling died down and she finally fell asleep. "God, Christian. I love you sooo much," she mumbled lazily.

I couldn't help rolling my eyes. "Why don't you two just go get married already?" I joked to myself with a chuckle as I made my way to my side of the room. Heaving a sigh, I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and lighter from the back of my desk drawer before leaving our room.

Closing my eyes, I released the smoke through slightly parted lips and leaned my arms against the cement blockage on the roof of our dorm building. It didn't matter how many times I got in a car, raced, and kicked someone's ass on the road. The same bloody images flooded my mind right after I was finished with each damn race.

"Shit," I mumbled and crushed out what was left of my cigarette. It was a shame I couldn't crush my inerasable memories the same way.

Someone slammed her notebooks on the desk next to me. "Are you really going to sleep through Stan's class again?" she asked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Don't I always," I grumbled without so much as lifting my head from my desk.

"She made a break yesterday, Mia. You know how she is the next morning," Lissa's calm voice said. Amazing how someone who was so drunk last night could be at school without having a hangover.

Since street racing was technically _illegal_ where St. Vladimir's Academy was, we discreetly used certain words in place of racing terms. My friends knew that I couldn't afford getting expelled and arrested three months before graduation.

"And you know the trouble Eddie and I go to for her to make that break," Mia pointed out just as the tardy bell rang.

Everyone didn't acknowledge Stan's presence as he walked into class. He cleared his throat loudly three times, but, in the end, he gave up and slammed his hand on his wooden desk. "All right, settle down. I've got an announcement to make," he said loudly. When he had everyone's attention—except mine—he continued, "I'll be on a maternal leave starting today for the next three months, but I'll make sure to be here by graduation."

Now _that_ got my attention. "Wow, Stan. You sure don't look like a glowing mother who's six months pregnant," I teased, resting my head in my hands with a goofy grin.

His expression turned annoyed. "Miss Hathaway, your sense of humor never ceases to show your stupidity, especially with the way you're failing my history class," he sneered.

I just rolled my eyes. "So who's the old lady this time?"

Ignoring my question, he turned to the door. "Perfect timing," he mumbled and motioned the substitute inside.

My eyes lazily wandered as the substitute walked in. When my eyes met the substitute's, my whole body froze. "Holy shit," I whispered under my breath.

It was the ex-_Road Killer_ I'd met last night. Beli-something was his name…I think.

"This is your substitute for the next three months until I get back," Stan said and turned to him. "Go on, introduce yourself."

The tall substitute faced the class, staring at no one in particular. "My name's Dimitri Belikov. I'll be your substitute starting from today," he said tersely. Anyone could tell that he was antisocial. How he became a substitute teacher I'd never know.

Stan clapped his hand once. "Everyone, finish up the worksheets I passed out in class yesterday," he instructed before turning to Dimitri. "I have a weekly schedule for your term, so there shouldn't be any problem." He paused before sending a glance my way. "Actually, you might have one problem in this class. Hathaway, get up here."

There were snickers from my friends as I walked up to the two teachers with a smug look on my face. "Aw, Stan. If you want a farewell hug, you just had to ask," I chuckled, folding my arms across my chest.

He pinched the bridge of his nose for five seconds. "Mr. Belikov, this is my biggest headache in the world," he began.

"Why, I'm flattered," I interrupted with mock surprise.

Ignoring the interruption, he continued, "I hope you'll be able to improve her grade—and hopefully her attitude—by the time I come back from my leave of absence."

I laughed. "Improve my grade? It's like you're making him my tutor," I chuckled, giving him a slight punch on his arm. When the two just stared back like I had stated the obvious, my laughter died right away. There was a staring match among the three of us. "My tutor? My _tutor_? You've got to be shitting me!" I hissed through clenched teeth.

Stan glowered at me with an annoyed expression. "No, I'm not _shitting_ you, Hathaway. Mr. Belikov here will helping you raise your grade to at least a C-minus so you won't have to repeat my class over the summer," he explained and lowered his face to mine slightly. "I want you graduating in three months. I want you out."

I glared at both of them. "Great, are we done? I have your worksheets to finish," I growled and went back to my seat before either of them could answer.

* * *

><p>I banged my fist on the steering wheel, feeling angry at everything. Absolutely nothing went right when I felt one tiny moment of happiness. Pulling up to our makeshift workshop, which was basically a deserted warehouse, I got out and popped open the hood and just stared at the engine intently. It may be a GT-R, but after having Adrian contacting his sources at Gintani, she flew like a Formula One car.<p>

My senses heightened when I heard someone crunch a leaf with his shoes. I turned my head to the entrance and nearly rolled my eyes. "Did Stan also tell you to stalk me wherever I go?" I asked, slamming the hood down.

He shoved his hands in his jean pockets. "No, I just saw you out there and decided to follow," he answered.

"Great. Now you know I'm here," I said with delightful sarcasm and opened the door so I could drive back to Adrian's garage.

"Wait," he said, coming over towards my car and me. "Meet me at Starbucks after you finish your classes tomorrow."

I paused, one foot in the car. "What for? I'm busy."

He just stared at me with an unfathomable expression. "My duty is to help you raise your grade high enough so you can pass Stan's class," he answered.

For some odd reason, I started to get irritated with the way he was talking to me. The fun and dangerous attitude he gave off last night was way better than his current formal one. "I don't give a damn about your duty. I've got plans tomorrow night."

"Racing?" I heard a slight tone of disapproval.

My anger simmered down slightly and I managed to put on a half-smile. "Do you have to ask?" I asked, patting my car proudly.

He chuckled. "Since you're a bit reluctant about the tutoring issue," he began.

"A _bit_? Really?" I interrupted.

He went on as if I hadn't said anything. "I propose a deal: you come to our tutoring sessions every day for an hour and a half, and I'll give you a few pointers on how to handle your car better," he finished.

Grinning, I folded my arms across my chest. "Really? Are you saying there's something wrong with the way I handle my car?" I challenged.

Looking at my car, he answered, "No, but there's always room for improvement."

The offer was tempting. "You're willing to be my mentor for this?" He nodded. "Why?"

"Does there have to be a reason?" he asked, countering my question with one of his own.

I shrugged. "Considering the fact that you're my _teacher_, yeah."

He gave me a wistful smile. "Just because I'm a substitute teacher doesn't mean I shouldn't be concerned for my student's interest." There was something in his eyes that told me he was hiding something. As wrong as it seemed, I wanted to find out what it was.

I also wanted to lighten up the atmosphere around us, so I stuck my hand out with a slight smile. "Then it's a deal."

Whatever was bothering him suddenly disappeared because he reached out and shook my hand with a lighthearted smile, one that had the butterflies in my stomach fluttering around.

* * *

><p>"There's another Gathering tomorrow night. You're coming along, right?" Ben asked sipping his latté with one leg crossed over the other. He winked at a woman who had been staring at him for quite some time. Cocky bastard.<p>

I thought about it. "Probably, but I might be a little late," I answered.

He laughed. "Figuring out a way to ask out miss _Road Killer_ without getting rejected?"

I grimaced. "You know I got a job as a substitute teacher?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"She's my student."

His doughnut fell from his hand and onto the table. "Holy shit, man. She's a minor!"

"She's graduating in three months," I said with a shrug and sipped my black Americano. "But that still doesn't give me the right to think the way I do about her."

For once, Ben looked thoughtful for a moment. "You know, morally you could wait until she graduates," he pointed out.

Chuckling, I replied, "Since when did you have morals?"

"Ah, ah. You didn't let me finish," he chastised, waving a finger at me. "But in my opinion, I say you should screw the rules and go for it."

I rolled my eyes. "Easy for you to say; you're not the one who's aiming to go to graduate school."

He gave me a stern look. "I'm serious, Dimitri. You've never gone after anyone since that incident," he said and leaned back in his seat. "And I think she'd be good for you, since she also…" Suddenly, he looked as if he'd been caught.

"She also what?" I pressed.

He put his hands up. "I can't say. It's taboo for it to be said," he said and leaned in closer. "You know Jesse Zeklos and Ralf Sarcozy? They're in your class."

I pondered over the two names. Yeah, they were the two who had disrupted my lesson today. "What about them?"

"They brought up that taboo incident in front of her about a year ago. The next morning, the two were in the hospital, and they looked like shit," he whispered. "If you ask me, I think her group of friends is more vicious than they seem."

After a few moments of silence, I said, "So basically, don't ask about 'that incident.'"

"That's the idea."

I silently sipped my coffee and mulled over the thoughts in my head.

Maybe—just maybe—she was trying to fight off her memories, just like I was.

* * *

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**-Delicate**


	3. Light and Dark

_**To achieve anything in this game…  
>you must be prepare to dabble in the boundary of disaster.<strong>_

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><p><em>Light and Dark<em>

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><p>"I couldn't care less about World War II," I groaned, banging my head against my textbook. It was our second week into tutoring sessions, sessions I'd deemed useless and pointless. Okay, who gave a crap about the screw-ups that had happened? They happened all the time.<p>

Dimitri tapped his finger on his own copy of the history textbook. "Come on, Rose. The test is tomorrow, and you need to remember the cause and effect of each event," he said patiently.

I shifted my head to glare at him. "Cause: bloody Truman said _let's not waste our men and drop a whamming atom bomb on that tiny country_. Effect: the poor Japanese people were being diagnosed with leukemia left and right. Conclusion: war fucking sucks."

His lip twitched slightly. "War does suck, I agree. But unfortunately the test won't be graded on your opinions," he said and took a sip of his Americano. A man after my own heart. "Now reread the chapter for the next half-hour and I'll be asking for a verbal timeline."

After a half-hour of hellish reading and another half-hour of relentless questioning, Dimitri finally gave me the go.

"Yes! Oh God, I read too much for one lifetime. Hey, are my eyes still there, Dimitri?" I asked, rubbing and opening them. I swore they felt like they were about to pop out of their sockets.

He chuckled. "If you can still see me, they're probably intact," he answered, gathering his things and neatly placing them into his messenger bag whereas, in contrast, I just shoved everything into my black backpack.

Heaving the pack on my back, I looked at my watch. I had enough time to drop my things off at my dorm and head on over to get my car from Adrian. "See you," I said and headed towards my dorm in a jog.

By the time I dropped my backpack by my desk, Lissa yawned and came through the door.

"Hey, Christian and the rest of the group want to go check out Ambrose's club tonight. He said he was done renovating the place, said it looked—and I quote—sick with a capital S," she said with a laugh and moved towards her closet. "What're you gonna wear?"

I bit my lower lip as I shoved on a black sweatshirt. "Actually, you guys go without me tonight. There's something I need to do," I said, turning with my wallet shoved in my pocket.

She turned her head with a suspicious look. "Again?" she asked, slightly annoyed. "Rose, you've been bailing out on us a lot these days. Did you hook up with someone we don't know about?"

_Wish I did if he was younger_, I thought bitterly but shrugged. "There are some new moves I want to try out on the GT-R. Qualifiers for Nationals are in two months, you know."

"Yeah, _two months_. I'm sure taking a day off won't lessen your already-killer skills. Come _on_, Rose. Clubbing isn't the same if you're not there," she whined.

I had to laugh. "Technically, all of us aren't supposed to be there," I reminded her. It was through Adrian's legit-looking fake ID's that we were there time to time. "Look, I'll join you guys another time. Just not tonight."

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><p>"You're shifting too fast," Dimitri noted as I rounded another corner, my nearly-dead tires kicking up dust. "You need to get a sense of timing, otherwise when you compete you'll be losing milliseconds that you can't afford to waste."<p>

Gritting my teeth, I made a perfect drift around a large tree, keeping my distance from its trunk reasonably small. "I'm still fresh on timing," I sighed when I stopped where we'd started. "If you haven't noticed in the past two weeks, I move on instinct."

He frowned slightly. "We're going to have to sharpen up both. Let's go the same path again, and this time try to get a feel of how soon you should be braking for the sharp turns," he instructed.

I couldn't bother to argue. It was fascinating to be learning from an ex-_Road Killer_. Even though he'd given up the title for God knows whatever reason, his techniques were still killer. Hell, he even went so far as to show me where he used to practice: a deserted dirt terrain behind the mountains that were about an hour away by car.

After three more runs, he called for a break. I got out of the driver's side and leaned against the side of the hood staring into the dark; the sun had went completely down during my tenth run. If I died, I wondered if I'd end up in the dark for eternity. Oh yeah, I knew there was a glorious place called heaven. But with all the black marks in my life record, I doubt I'd ever make it there. So if not light, it'd probably be darkness for me. I wondered if he—

"What're you thinking?" Dimitri asked, breaking my train of thought.

Turning my head to the right, I saw him looking at me with a curious look. "Nothing much," I lied.

"Rose."

I had to chuckle; the man knew how to smell bullshit, even my level of bullshit which was very high by the way. "Just wondering how the hell we're going to find our way out of here since no one's bothered to install streetlamps," I said with a shrug. It wasn't a full lie.

Looking satisfied with my answer, he turned to stare into the dark like I'd done. "Sometimes," he began after a moment of silence, "there won't always be lights to pave out a clear path. Sometimes you have to find your own path on your own."

Grinning, I asked, "Are you trying to give me some zen lessons?" A laugh escaped me when he looked puzzled. "You're right. Life isn't fun if you know which path to walk on. The dark gives you a sense of adventure."

He did something that had my heart stop for two seconds. He _smiled_. It wasn't one of those twitching smiles he gave me every once in a while. It was a full-on smile, and God it made him look even more gorgeous. Whatever dark monster was eating away at my thoughts, it was completely gone now.

I stared back into the dark. "But I'm not willing to go on an adventure at the risk of totaling my baby against a tree, so you better bet your ass that you know how to get out of here."

He laughed outright. Okay, if my heart kept stopping like this around him, this man was bad news. "Rose, I've been driving longer than you, and I've got this entire area memorized like the back of my hand," he said reassuringly getting into the passenger side.

"Okay, how many lines does the back of your hand have?" I mumbled, getting in and buckling up before turning on the ignition. That got a chuckle out of him.

Within five minutes, we were back on the main road heading towards campus.

"Question."

He raised a brow.

I smiled. "What the hell possessed you to become a teacher? If there's supposed to be a connection between a racer and a teacher, I've yet to see it."

Glancing over, I could tell I caught him off guard. He probably had no one ask him questions about himself. How could anyone, with the way his antisocial front scared the shit out of everyone.

"I've learned a lot of things over the years," he said, "and I thought that since I have all this knowledge, I might as well share it."

I grimaced. "Look, I know you feel you're doing a good deed by sharing your _knowledge_, but maybe you overlooked the fact that there are some of us who don't appreciate it."

His lips formed another one of those twitchy smiles. "You feel that way now," he answered simply and I thought he let the subject drop. "But those who don't come to appreciate it soon are bound to be in an accident, in all sense of the word."

Something squeezed my gut; it was like he shot an arrow through me. Ignoring it, or trying to ignore it, I replied, "Speaking from personal experience?"

His eyes held a wistful look, almost like he regretted something. "Yes."

"Is that why you quit racing?"

It was another one of those rare moments where I startle him. I could all but hear the internal war raging within him, probably debating whether to ignore a seventeen-year old student or be honest with her.

The latter won out. "Yes."

An uncomfortable silence bloomed in the car, but thankfully I could see the teachers' living complex a few blocks ahead. Instead of heading straight into the parking lot, I made a right two blocks before and a left on the next street to stop in a dark alley that led to the back lot of the complex. No one could see me, and it was close enough for Dimitri to walk without the possibility of getting mugged.

"I'll see you in class," he said, unbuckling the seat belt.

I frowned. "Hey."

He paused, one leg out the door, and turned.

"Accidents happen all the time. You just have to learn from them to make sure they don't happen again," I said, speaking from my own experience. Then I smiled. "So stop looking so damn gloomy and man-up. We've got a test tomorrow, which should cheer you up you bloody sadistic teachers."

That did the trick: his eyes lightened up considerably. "Goodnight, Rose," he said and shut the passenger door before I made a U-turn and sped off towards Adrian's.

* * *

><p>"You look like shit," Ben noted, stepping into my small apartment.<p>

I downed my sixth and last bottle of beer, which did absolutely nothing. American beers were pathetic. "Hi to you, too," I mumbled, burying my face in my hands.

He took the seat in front of me on the other side of my small circular wooden dining table. "What's bothering you so much that you had to call me out at midnight?" he asked, folding his arms on the table. His worry was sincere.

"I was thinking about him," I said, my voice muffled by my hands.

I heard his sharp intake of breath. "God, Dimitri," he said mournfully. "What brought this on?"

Putting my hands down to fold my arms on the table as well, I hunched forward and sighed heavily. "I was talking to Rose," I answered. He knew who she was by now.

"Did she tell you about—" he began cautiously.

"We were talking about how some people don't appreciate someone else's knowledge and end up getting into all sorts of accidents," I interrupted him with a slight hiss at the end.

Now he sighed deeply. "We've been over this, Dimitri. Everyone's telling you it wasn't your fault. No, you listen to me," he snapped when I started to roll my eyes. "It wasn't your fault. I don't know how many times I have to say it for you to believe it. But I'm telling you it wasn't."

I wasn't in the mood to argue, so I just shrugged one shoulder and dropped the subject.

Attempting to lighten the atmosphere, Ben smiled and propped his chin up with his left hand. "How's it going with Rose?"

My eyes snapped up to his face, making him jerk slightly. "I don't like repeating myself."

He threw up his hands with a groan.

"But I think we're at the point where we've become friends," I added, smiling slightly when he twitched. I always wondered why he didn't go into the acting field; his moods changed as often as a hormonal woman.

He slapped a hand on my shoulder with a shit-eating grin. "My friend, you are making excellent progress."

I threw him a warning glance. "We're not going to go there. Ever." Did the man think of anything but sex?

He pointed a finger in my face with a serious expression. "You have feelings for her. If you lie to me, I swear, Dimitri, I'll kick your Siberian ass back to Baia," he warned. "It's written all over your scary face: I like my stunningly sexy student."

Why bother lying. "Yes, I have feelings for her. But," I said just as he opened his snarky mouth. Payback. "I'm not going to act on them. They'll go away sooner or later anyways."

He stared at me blandly. "Up until now, I never pegged you as a dumbass," he said. Then he leaned forward until he was in my face. "Answer me this: when was the last time you let anyone get close to you?" When I didn't answer, he grinned. "I know I don't have a lot of morals to follow, but let me tell you this as your best friend: I think—no, I _know_ Rose is the one you need. And fuck the age gap or that she's seventeen, Dimitri. Because I also know that you're the one that Rose needs, too."

I raised a brow. "You sound so sure of yourself," I muttered.

"I am," he said with a smile. "I'm not joking about any of this, I swear on my grandmother's grave—or whoever next in line is six feet under. That group she's with all the time? They're the only ones she's open with. While you were still finishing your classes as an undergrad, the kids in school used to call her Ice Queen for five months because unless it was her groupies she gave everyone the cold shoulder, especially the guys that hit on her."

How many names did she go by? This was too much information for me. "Look, let's just put all this feelings issue aside for a while. I just got my internship barely two weeks ago, and you're asking me to put it at risk."

I could see him biting back a remark. "You stubborn ass," he growled, yanking his blond hair. "Fine! Fine, let's just wait and see for any developments, like you want. But if something happens, I want to know."

"Nosy ass," I laughed. "Okay, I can do that."

Besides, what were the chances of anything happening?

* * *

><p><strong>Liked it? Loved it? Hated it? R&amp;R!<strong>

**I have inspiration! Haha, thanks for waiting! (: Also, I just posted out a new fanfic: **_**Line of Duty**_**. It's not the typical random crap I've been writing. And looking back, I realized **_**Love Forgotten**_** was just random ideas glomped together. So I'd like to announce:**

**I will rewrite **_**Love Forgotten**_** once I finish **_**Need For Speed**_** because: 1) I wrote it before **_**Blood Promise**_** came out & 2) My writing style was—pardon my French—absolute shit. Stay tuned!**

**-Delicate**


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